


I Can't Hear You

by Punish_Me_Frank_Castle



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Deaf Clint Barton, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 06:31:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14785290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punish_Me_Frank_Castle/pseuds/Punish_Me_Frank_Castle
Summary: Clint meets his soulmate on a mission, and doesn't go as he expected.





	I Can't Hear You

Ever since you were born you had four words written right under your collarbone. The words written in the handwriting of your future soulmate, “I can’t hear you”. When you were younger you would dream about who your soulmate would be, where you would meet him. But now you didn’t care, you had too many other things to worry about. For example, the bad guys chasing you through the streets of France. You held on to the package, your boss would be very upset with you if you didn’t get what he was asking for. You couldn’t disappoint your boss, people who did tended to disappear.

You didn’t know who the men were, but they were American. You shoved your way through a crowded sidewalk and began making a list of all the agencies in America that would want you dead or alive. The CIA and SHIELD were at the top of that list. The CIA you could handle,  if it was SHIELD it would be more difficult. You heard rumors of the people they had working for them and it wasn’t something you wanted to get involved with. You tightened your fist over the thumb drive. You slowed your pace, slipping into a crowded street market. Maybe if you blended in you’d lose the agents.

* * *

                                         —————————

Clint watched her walk into the crowd. He wanted to get this mission over with, get the intel and get the hell out of France. France put him on edge, mostly because of the phrase written vertically down his spine. And if shit couldn’t get any worse, his hearing aids had malfunctioned. Now he couldn’t hear. He blamed France, nothing ever went his way in France. He told the agents behind the woman to back off, that he would take care of it. He jumped off the roof he was perched on, placed his bow in his backpack and began to walk into the crowd. He snuck up behind the women, and placed his arm around her.

* * *

                                         —————————

You looked behind you. You couldn’t see the Agents anymore. You smiled, thinking that they must have been CIA. Slowing your walk even more. You had about an hour before the meet up, why not enjoy it. You browsed the isles of the famers market, noting the things you would want to grab after the meet up. You felt this guy get into your personal space, you just assumed it was because of the packed market, then you felt his arm go around your shoulders, and alarm bells began to go off. Before you could react you felt the needle inserted into your neck. You felt the blackness close around you, and the junk drive slipped from your fingers.

You woke up in a concrete room, your legs were handcuffed to a chair, your wrists bound together with a zip tie. A man was standing in front of you, arms crossed, staring at you with a blank look. Your head was fuzzy and you were pissed. How dare this man, this agent, do this. He had no idea what he had done. He had basically had insured your death. No one who worked for Alexi and didn’t deliver what he asked got to keep their life. You began to shout at the agent, trying to hide your fear with your anger.

“S'il vous plaît me tuer. Tout ce que vous pourriez faire pour moi sera une bénédiction par rapport à ce qu'il va faire.” (Translation: Please kill me. Anything you could do will be a blessing compared to what they will do to me.)

You looked up at the agent, who seemed to be frowning slightly.

“I can’t hear you.” he said calmly.  
You began to laugh. Of course this would happen, of course your soulmate would be the enemy. Why should the thing you dreamed about your whole life be perfect, nothing else ever was. You switched to English, assuming that the guy didn’t speak French. Because if he did, there was no way he would be this calm.

“So you never learned French? Even when it was tattooed on your skin?” you ask with a sardonic mirth. Apparently the spy could read lips because he took a threatening step forward and glared at you.

“How do you know that?” he asked angrily.

You studied him. He had a strong build, wide shoulders and tanned skin. He was attractive. His nose was a little too big for his face but it suited him. He was handsome in a rugged way, you figured you could have gotten worst when it came down to it. You didn’t answer his question, you just raised your hands to pull down the collar of your shirt. His eyes widened when he saw the words written across your clavicle. He brushed his finger across it, and your shoulder began to tingle. Warmth spread from the soul mark throughout your body.

You let go of your shirt collar, the mark now covered. You put your hands back in your lap. “So, I showed you mine, you gonna show me yours?”

Instead of answering he turned and walked out of the room. When he returned he had this large contraption in one ear. You must have looked confused because he offered up an explanation.

“I wasn’t going to have my first conversation with my soulmate without being able to hear her voice. These are ancient, but they will do.”

He shrugged and began to take his shirt off. You only caught a glimpse of his rock hard abs before he turned around. You saw the mark instantly, it was written in your handwriting down his spine. It was beautiful and harsh against his skin.

“What does it say?” he asked gently, putting his shirt back on.

You sighed, and wished you could take back your words. They were true, but they were never what you thought would be on your soul mates skin. It seemed cruel for him to have to live with those words.

“It says ‘Please kill me. Anything you could do to me will be a blessing compared to what he’ll do. “ a tear slipped down your cheek as you said those words.

He brushed the tear away, and released you. You looked up confused.

“No one is going to kill you. I won’t let them. Lets get you someplace safe.” he spoke in a caring tone as he released you from your bonds.

You stood instantly, your fight or flight instincts already kicking in.

He took your hand. “We only have about five minutes before they realize I’ve cut the camera feed. I’m gonna take you to a safe house. You’re going to hang out with a redheaded Russian.”

You nodded and gripped his hand tightly. You guys began to run and it finally hit you that you didn’t even know his name. As if he was psychic he turned to you and with a smirk said.

“The names Barton. Clint Barton.”

**Author's Note:**

> I like this but I don’t know if it’s good enough for a part 2, or if it even needs one. Let me know your opinion.


End file.
